Chapter Text
"Lance... can we go home now..?"
Pidge winces at the unnecessarily loud music blasting through the speakers as she grips onto Lance's arm like it's the only thing keeping her from drowning in a sea of people. Partying is not her forte, let alone with one of the most popular boys in school. She still has yet to fully process how she even managed to let Lance convince her to be his date to prom, especially considering how painfully different they are when it comes to social events. Lance is a social butterfly. Pidge is a bookworm. Those two are hardly seen going out together. But somehow, the butterfly decided that it was time to add a little variation and ask the bookworm to join the party. She can barely remember how the whole thing played out.
All she can vividly remember is being pulled out of the cafeteria to an empty corner, glaring at Hunk and Allura as they giggled like they knew what was happening. She can remember the mixture of hope, excitement, and anxiety in Lance's eyes as he struggled to say what he wanted, beating around the bush before finally blurting it out.
"I, uh... I know this isn't really your thing and um... you might say no but I really hope you don't because... uh..."
"Lance, just spit it out."
"Please go to prom with me, Pidge!"
That's the last thing Pidge clearly remembers. After that, her mind blanks from the time he held her hand to the time he had to let go because lunch was over. Somewhere in that blur, she assumes a yes was thrown into the mix, landing her next to possibly one of her biggest crushes, at one of the biggest parties at school. As a date. Wack, truly.
Snapping back to the present, she just barely catches Lance glancing down at her with a wide grin plastered on his face. "Go home? We just got here ten minutes ago!" he chuckles, patting her shoulder.
There's no way only ten minutes have gone by. Despite the clock proving otherwise, Pidge is sure that it's already been way more than two hours. Letting out a small huff, she lightly bumps her head against his arm. "I'm not gonna make it..." she mutters.
"Of course you will," Lance counters immediately as he nudges her softly. "Don't worry so much, it'll only ruin the fun of a party. Try to loosen up a little bit!"
Much easier said than done. Before Pidge can respond, she feels a hand gently grasp hers, fingers delicately intertwining together as if her hand is fragile. She's pretty sure she knows what just happened, but just to be sure, she slowly glances down at her hand to confirm that she isn't just imagining things. Sure enough, Lance's hand is there, his palm perfectly flush with hers. They fit almost too perfectly. And her cheeks are now doing an embarrassingly poor job at hiding that.
Pidge's internal turmoil must be far too obvious because Lance is quick to notice. "How about we go dance to shake off some of those nerves?" he offers, beaming brightly as he starts to gently tug her towards the dance floor.
Dancing is far from the kind of stress relief Pidge needs. Her feet stick fast right where they are before Lance can pull her an inch closer to the center of the room. "No, absolutely not. There is no way I'm bringing any more attention to myself than necessary."
Lance tilts his head and cocks an eyebrow upward. "Why not? You look stunning in that dress!"
"That's debatable." Even though she received compliments about her outfit choice—well, Matt's choice, technically; he picked it out for her since she refused to bother looking for a dress—she still feels insecure about how much skin is showing. What if it's showing too much back? What if too much of her legs are showing? What if her cleavage is too noticeable? Does she even have any, to begin with?
"It is most certainly not debatable," Lance argues again, pinching her cheek as Pidge whines in protest. "Come on, don't tell me you paid all that money just to hide in the corner for four hours."
Saying that she hasn't considered it at least five times since they arrived would be a lie. If she hadn't been so lost in a trance when Lance had asked her out to prom, she would have thought to remind herself that going to dances usually involves, well, dancing. Curse Lance and his ridiculously attractive smile. "I just... I'm gonna grab some food first..." she says, hoping it'll buy her some time.
Much to her luck, Lance decides to hold off the dancing until later, letting her hand go. "Alright, I'll be waiting right here~" He grins again, winking before turning to talk to a few guys approaching him.
Pidge quickly nods, backing away and disappearing behind the crowd. And as she lets out a deep sigh, she realizes that she forgot to properly breathe while Lance was holding her hand. Strange what a little crush can do to a teenager.
Thankfully, it doesn't take too long to spot the food bar in the back corner of the room. To make matters better, seated next to the array of food is none other than Hunk, currently taking small bites from every dish as he judges with only his eyes and tongue. He pauses just long enough to spot her headed his way and stands up, grinning widely. "Hey, Pidge! I'm surprised you decided to show up!"
"Yeah, huge mood," she scoffs in response as she pulls up a chair next to Hunk. "I don't even know why I'm here. I'm not a party person, I'm not a social butterfly, I'm not a dancer, especially in front of so many people... Why did I say yes again..?"
"Because the boy you've been pining after for two and a half years stole you away during lunch, took you where no one was around, looked deep into your eyes and asked you out, just like you've always dreamed of. And there was absolutely no way you could possibly say no~" Hunk teases, dramatically clasping his hands together.
"Please don't turn this into one of those annoying Disney high school romance movies." Pidge snatches a piece of fried chicken off of Hunk's plate, sinking her teeth into the salty meat. Is she now beginning her stress-eating habits because of a friend-turned-crush? Possibly, but she's not about to admit it.
Hunk watches her scarf down the piece of chicken in one go, his eyebrow raised with slight amusement. "So, any reason why you're hiding with me over here instead of getting it on with your boyfriend~?"
"Don't ever say 'getting it on with your boyfriend' ever again," Pidge warns, trying to glare intimidatingly at Hunk but failing because of the chicken squished inside her cheeks. "And Lance is not my boyfriend."
"Not yet."
"Keep digging your own grave, why don't you?"
Hunk snickers in response, shrugging his shoulders as he playfully nudges her. "You're only mad because you know I'm right."
"Whatever." Pidge's token response when she's run out of witty comebacks. The two fall silent as Pidge absentmindedly reaches for a light blue cake pop. Hunk raises his eyebrows again and opens his mouth to speak, but with another swift glare he chuckles and closes it again. Biting into the cake pop, she allows her eyes to close for a bit, trying to forget the fact that she's currently in a large ballroom twice the size of the entire second story of her house filled with an overwhelming population of teenagers.
"Pidge! There you are!"
Lance's voice nearly scares Pidge half to death. Letting out a small shriek, she jumps up from her seat and desperately tries to act like she wasn't just dozing off five seconds ago. "Oh, hi Lance," she responds with an embarrassed grin. "Sorry I forgot to come back and find you."
With a wave of his hand, Lance quickly brushes off her apology. "Not a problem! So, you ready to hit the floor?"
Ah, dancing. Pidge hoped he would have forgotten that part by now. The time she stole to hide behind the food clearly wasn't enough. "Lance, you know I'm not good at dancing. I'm gonna make a complete fool of myself," she sighs, glancing down at her shoes.
"That's what you're worried about? Everyone's having too much fun to care if you're a good dancer or not!" Lance insists again.
Pidge isn't thoroughly convinced, though. She takes one swift glance around the room and instantly decides that she's much better off in the corner and out of sight. But before she can voice her answer out loud, the upbeat song blasting from the speakers is replaced with a slow song, one that could be immediately recognized as a couple's dance. Pidge isn't given much time to protest as Lance extends his arm out to her. "I..." The rest of the words fail to come from her mouth as she glances up at the taller make standing in front of her. From her angle, his face almost shines, making him a thousand times more attractive than he already is. His gentle smile nearly causes her to melt in her spot. No is no longer an option.
"Please..? Just for this song?"
As a desperate last resort, she glances over at Hunk, who has migrated to the other side of the bar. When he catches her gaze, he nods encouragingly and motions for her to go. Such help that was. "Oh, fine..." Being left with virtually no other choice, Pidge finally gives in, taking Lance's hand and allowing him to help her up. Her hand starts to tingle again as he gently clasps his fingers around hers, slowly leading her to the dance floor. Once Lance stops and turns to her, Pidge raises an eyebrow and folds her arms across her chest. "So, you gonna teach me how to dance or what?"
With a small chuckle, Lance takes a hold of both of her hands again. "I'm not teaching you how to dance. I'm teaching you how to relax when you dance," he answers, placing her hands on his shoulders.
As soon as Pidge feels Lance's arms wrap around her waist, her poor heart nearly stops. She's so close to him. So, so close to him. Anyone can tell that Pidge is an emotional disaster right now, unable to meet Lance's eyes for more than a second before her cheeks burn a bright red and force her to look back down at her shoes. Their close proximity is almost overwhelming. "Lance... I-I don't know if I..."
"Katie." One of Lance's hands taps her chin, lightly encouraging her to look up at him. A small shiver spirals throughout her nervous system as he says her real name in such a soft and alluring voice, and Pidge is pretty sure she'll drop the second he lets go. "Just trust the music, trust yourself. Trust me."
Now completely incapable of forming a coherent response, Pidge simply nods and takes a deep breath, waiting for Lance to take the first step. Slowly, he begins to lead, starting with small swaying from side to side. In theory, this shouldn't be so hard for Pidge to keep up with, but with her mind having a mini panic attack due to being so close to her longtime crush it's not that easy to stay focused. The two are completely silent as Lance patiently gives her time to fall into the same rhythm with him. It's still incredibly difficult to make any eye contact with him, her eyes remaining glued to the floor until a gentle hand delicately brushes against her cheek, causing her to hesitantly glance at him. Just when Pidge concludes that this is as Disney as real life can get, Lance reaches up to set one of her stray hairs back in place, tucking it behind her ear. And when he flashes that soft, warm, and inviting smile again, she's no longer sure whether she wants to book it all the way to her room or stay here for the rest of her life.
Pidge can feel her own facial features mirror his smile, giving her just enough of a confidence boost to keep her eyes up a little longer and finally form a coherent sentence. "This... this actually isn't all that bad..." she slowly admits, allowing herself to relax a little more.
"See? I knew you can do it. You just gotta stop doubting yourself so much. Just dance like there's no one watching you." Lance pulls away until they're only connected by one hand, and somehow Pidge instantly knows what he wants her to do. Grinning widely, she spins back into his arms like she's seen in movies. "Wow, you really are a natural~"
"Oh, shut up," she snickers as she lightly kicks his foot. "If I were a natural do you think I'd be so terrified of dancing in the first place?"
Lance shrugs, his hands returning to her waist as they easily return to their regular pace. "You know, I'm surprised I waited so long to finally ask you out," he states as a sudden change of topic.
Pidge nearly trips over her own feet as she replays his words in her head to make sure she heard correctly. "What? What do you mean by 'waited'?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Since your freshman year, Pidge. Everyone and their mom knew how bad I had it for you. But I was such a damn chicken it took me two whole years to say something." Lance shakes his head and chuckles softly. "I'm not nearly as confident as I look, huh?"
Two years. Around the same time Pidge discovered that she had fallen for the tall, charismatic boy standing in front of her now. Pidge nearly has trouble taking his words seriously. "You know, I almost don't want to believe that," she responds. "Everyone could tell I had a crush on you since the first time you bitch-slapped me in the face with your backpack."
"It was an accident, I swear! I didn't know you were behind me!" Lance immediately protests, causing Pidge to laugh and flick his chin.
"Yeah, yeah, I forgive you. And to be fair I did get you back with that soccer ball."
"Yeah, that one stung for a few hours."
"I told you I was bad at soccer but you didn't listen."
Lance falls silent for a few moments before letting out a small laugh. "So you're telling me we've been hopelessly pining for two years and no one said a word about it?" he questions, furrowing his eyebrows.
Pidge scoffs quietly. "Seems like it. But I guess it was worth it in the end?"
"Definitely worth it in the end," Lance confirms, nodding with a wide grin.
Despite the fact that just a few minutes ago Pidge was ready to blast from the party, she now finds herself feeling a little disappointed as the final song comes to an end. Claps and cheers fill the room as the dj thanks everyone for showing up. Pidge almost wants to hang out with Lance a little after the party, but a small buzzing in her purse insists that it's time for her to head home. Turning back to Lance, she reaches for his hand and squeezes it gently. "I had a lot of fun, Lance. Thanks for helping me out of my comfort zone," she admits with a small smile.
Lance quickly returns the smile, pulling her into a hug and placing a kiss on her forehead. "I wouldn't trade this night for the world," he says in a hushed voice.
As soon as Pidge is surrounded by the warmth of Lance's arms, she's tempted to stay like this forever. But her still ringing phone clearly doesn't have that much patience. "I have to get going now, Matt's waiting for me..." she sighs as she reluctantly pulls away from him. "I'll see you on Monday."
Lance hums in response, but before Pidge can leave he quickly grabs her hand, pulling her close to his chest. Pidge is sure everyone in the building can hear her heart beating rapidly as Lance leans closer to her, his lips dodging her own by mere millimeters. "Don't forget what we learned today. If my hope for the future become a reality, this won't be the last time." Before he lets her go, he presses a light kiss on her cheek and squeezes her hand, leaving a tingling sensation in both spots. "Get home safe, Katie."
Pidge opens her mouth to respond, but her ability to speak has been completely obliterated once again. She's left with no other choice but to nod and wave as she turns and hurries out. Matt glances over at Pidge quizzically when she practically stumbles into the car and lets out a long sigh. "What's got you so red and out of breath?" he questions.
"Nothing," Pidge quickly returns. Matt teasing her about her 'date' is the last thing she needs right now.
"Too busy making out with your boyfriend you couldn't even answer the phone I bet~"
"Matt, I swear if you don't shut the fu-"
"Ah! Language!" Matt cuts her off, flashing that annoying smirk as he starts to pull out of his parking spot.
Normally, Pidge would argue that Matt was the one who taught her those words in the first place, but too many thoughts are buzzing inside her head to be bothered with making a rebuttal. The loudest out of all of them is Lance's last words before she left. "Don't forget what we learned today... this won't be the last time..." Pidge can't help but smile to herself as she replays the dance in her head to remember what happened and how it felt. Because if Lance is thinking what she is, then it certainly won't be the last time.